


Running Man

by inuyashamunkey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, He gets a cool new one, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I lied it doesn't get worse, It Gets Worse, Lance is strong, Lance is underappreciated, Langst, Loss of Limbs, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Prosthetics, Shiro and Lance are BFFs fight me, Shiro and Lance understand eachother, chapter 1 s sweet, lance loses a leg, maybe? - Freeform, overcoming difficulties, robot prosthetics, shangst?, sorry - Freeform, the rest will be less so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:17:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inuyashamunkey/pseuds/inuyashamunkey
Summary: When Lance loses his leg in a horrific accident, he feels as if he's lost a part of himself.Shiro understands.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part one!
> 
> This was supposed to be the only part, but here we are, making more than one.

His leg is not where it is supposed to be.

That is the first thing that registers within Lance's mind as he wakes up in a world of white, his left leg far lighter than his right.

His memory is foggy at best, unable to tell him why he is where he is. Why his left foot doesn't feel the way it did before.

He thinks maybe it isn't there anymore.

He doesn't truly register it for a moment. His blue eyes are dull, pointed up at the ceiling and his hand leans down to wrap around what is left of his leg.

His hand is shaky and trembling as it slides down his hip. His hand stops quickly, cupping the stump that ended mid-thigh. His  _knee, calf, ankle, toes_ , they aren't there.

It becomes real.

The grief is heavy as it enters his system, clogging his pores. Tears make a sheen over his eyes and he hangs his head. He tries to hold it in but sobs are quick to make their way through his throat and out of his mouth, he is unable to halt the terrible sounds of grief.

He sobs in earnest, mourning as if he's lost a friend and not just a limb. It's a weird feeling, being so attached to something you never gave much thought to before.

Entitlement to something uncertain.

A comforting weight drops onto his shoulder, "Lance?  _Hermano_?" the voice is soft.

Lance looks at Hunk through blurry vision and sniffles,  _"Hunk."_

He's sure he looks wrecked because Hunks expression  _shatters_  and, next thing he knows, Lance is being wrapped up in a bear hug. It's the warmest hug he's ever had, but it's also the saddest.

Hunk rubs his back as he sobs, his large hands smoothing his hospital gown down.

"It's okay," Hunk mumbles, his own voice heavy with thickened tears, "It's going to be okay,  _hermano_."

Lance's wails are loud and grieving, he doesn't believe Hunks words. How can he?

Nobody needs a leg that can't stand on its own.

Hunk is his rock, he holds Lance through the worst of his pain and grief.

He vaguely remembers him holding him as he bled out, too, ever reliable.

Lance still doesn't let go as his sobs quiet, but Hunk doesn't ask him to, he just rubs his hair gently and whispers calming words into his hair, telling him it will be okay.

_Everything will be okay._

~

Hunk doesn't know how long he sits there rubbing his friend's back long after he's fallen asleep, he just knows his face is itchy with dried tears that had dripped silently down his cheeks.

His heart has never known the ache it feels now. He's never understood the pain he sees every time Keith looks as Shiro's arm, the guilt and remorse every time Shiro rubs its stiffness away before now.

He selfishly thinks his hurt is worse. He had to hold his best friend as he bled out, dying in his arms. He had to live in that moment knowing that even if Lance survived the horrific ordeal, he would never return to the way he was before.  _He will never be the same._

He hopes he's proven wrong.

There's a light knock on the open door and Hunk shifts gently to peer around the curtain. Shiro smiles softly, if not a bit awkwardly, "Can I come in?"

Hunk purses his lips and nods. Shiro walks in, his eyes going to Lance near immediately, a sympathetic pain on his face. He sits on the edge of the bed, quietly observing the way Lance curls in Hunk's arms. "How is he?"

"Not good," Hunk admits, his eyes shining.

His answer gives Shiro a sad twist of lips. Shiro puts a hand, his flesh hand, on Hunk's arm, "He's going to be okay. Pidge is making him a prosthetic as we speak. He'll get used to it like I-"

"He _isn't_  you," Hunk cuts sharply in his eyes lock on the crown of Lance's head. His stomach twists in guilt, a heaviness settles. He mouthes over an apology, but it doesn't make itself known. His lips clamp shut and his eyes shoot down.

Shiro gives him a sad smile, "It's okay. This is hard on everyone. And...and it's going to continue to be hard but Lance isn't going through this alone."

 _No,_ Hunk thinks,  _he won't be alone, he won't have to suffer alone like-_

"Like you," Hunk can't help to say. He checks Shiro's expression, but it hasn't changed.

"Like me," Shiro agrees in a soft tone. "He won't be alone, we'll all be there to help him adjust."

Hunk rubs the side of Lance's cheek gently. "You'll be more help than I will be." Hunk's heart pangs at the thought, but he knows it's true; none of them understand what Lance is going through as Shiro does.

"You being there for him will be enough, trust me."

Hunk wants to.

~

His healing is slow and sluggish, even with the help of a healing pod. Pidge comes in a few times to measure every bit of his existing leg along with the remaining stump on the other. She barely looks at him, her shoulders heavy with guilt and determination to right a wrong that she believes has been committed. Lance wants to reassure her but doesn't have the energy to. Doesn't really know what it is she thinks she did.

Lance hasn't seen Allura though Coran comes in often, even when he doesn't have to check Lance's injury, but he isn't surprised, he's sure she's busy looking for a new paladin.

For the good of the universe, he tries not to be bitter.

Shiro, Keith, and Hunk are the most frequent of his visitors. Hunk isn't a surprise, but Keith and Shiro had been an unexpected addition to his daily routine.

Hunk smiles as he walks in, a steaming bowl of something that smells heavenly in his hands as Shiro and Keith walk in behind him. Shiro waves quietly and moves to sit in a chair at his bedside as Hunk lifts the bowl onto Lance's tray. Keith just stands in the corner, staring at his feet.

"It's supposed to be sort of like pea soup but...not with pees?" Hunk says with a small chuckle, his smile only dimming a bit when Lance doesn't make a move to smile with him, his eyes staring down into the bowl despondently.

Lance robotically lifts the spoon from the soup and dips it back in, blowing on the hot liquid for a second before putting it in his mouth. It doesn't taste like much, but he doesn't know if that's his fault.

Hunk sits opposite to Shiro and starts rambling about something that Lance isn't in the mind to pay any attention to, all of his energy in feeding himself and nourishing his broken body. The others seem to be enjoying whatever he's saying though, as Shiro laughs and Keith seems, at the very least, engaged.

Lance lets himself zone out as his hand brings soup to his lips over and over until he has emptied the whole bowl, his stomach full of warmth.

Hunk takes the bowl away and says he's going to be right back after he puts it away. Keith follows and Lance thinks it's for lack of better things to do.

Lance moves his head to stare out of the window. Shiro stands, "Have you rubbed your leg today?"

Lance shakes his head and doesn't look down as Shiro removes the blanket from his stump. The healing pod sped up the healing process enough that his leg didn't need to be bandaged so Shiro only had to unwrap the brace Coran had fitted him with before digging his fingers into the ridged, deformed skin.

Shiro's hands are magic as they eased the tense muscle underneath his skin and rid him of his phantom pain. Lance lets his eyes slipped closed as he appreciates Shiro's ministrations, appreciates that Shiro doesn't require him to converse.

Shiro understands, and for that, Lance is grateful.

~

Lance feels somewhat optimistic the day Pidge comes in with his new prosthetic. 

Only Shiro and Coran are present as per his requests, and Pidge still doesn't so much as look at him as she explains how she made his new leg.

She doesn't look happy as she presents him with his beacon of hope.

"Shay lent me some Balmerian crystal to power it, so it should work fine for a long time without needing to be replaced completely. I added a compartment or two on the sides where he can store weapons or other things during missions," Pidge says, running a hand down the shiny blue and silver plating.

"How durable is it?" Coran inquires, pinching his goatee between two fingers.

"It's made of tougher stuff than Shiro's arm is, actually. I picked up some of the minerals from Lrn when we visited and I decided to keep it around and now it'll be Lance's leg, so..." Pidge trails off.

"Then I guess we should get Lance set up with it as soon as we can," Shiro smiles at Lance and Lance weakly smiles back. Shiro's smile broadens and he pats Lance's shoulder.

"That sounds wonderful. Are you ready, my boy?" Coran asks.

"As I'll ever be," Lance says uncertainly, staring down at the handcrafted prosthetic that would soon hold him up.

Metal would meet--  _replace_  flesh and Lance would earn to walk on a limb he couldn't feel.

Shiro gently jostles his shoulder, "Coran is going to put you to sleep now, we'll all be here when you wake up."

"Hunk?" Lance asks as Coran sits at his side with a needle.

"Sure," Shiro agrees softly, "he'll be here, too."

This time when Lance drifts off, he has hope.

~

Lance awakens slowly, his eyes opening to Hunk's smiling face. "Hey, buddy, how do you feel?"

Lance groggily shifts his head to the side, seeing Shiro and, just behind him, Keith. Coran is at the foot of his bed. "How do you feel, my boy? Tip top?" he asks.

Lance pulls himself up on weak arms and shifts until his back is against his pillows, wincing as his stump stings. Then he notices. His leg is heavy, heavier than his right but not unbearably so, and it occurs to him that there's something there now.

Lance looks at Hunk, his eyes wide, "My leg?"

"Do you want to see?" Shiro asks, his metal hand resting over his new prosthetic. Lance swallows and nods.

Shiro pulls back the blanket and Lance is amazed at the sight of the two legs together. His right is mocha-colored and covered in bright white and pink scars, a stark comparison to the gleaming metal that covered the left, accented with blues that match his eyes.

They're both the exact same size and length, crafted with a delicate precision that makes Lance's heart warm, knowing that Pidge must've spent hours upon hours perfecting this for him, even the bolts that hold metal plates down are customized with the Voltron insignia painted in blue.

He starts getting teary-eyed, he can't help it. He sniffs hard, "Where's Pidge?"

Hunk and Shiro share a glance, hesitant, and it's Keith that answers, "Sleeping. She hasn't gotten very much."

Lance nods slowly, a small smile etching onto his lips, "It's--really nice." His brow furrows.

"But it's a lot?" Shiro guesses.

Lance hums. It is a lot. Just under than a month ago he had two flesh legs and now...now he was missing the scar he got when his younger sister bit his knee during one of her games of 'Shark attack,' and the scar he got the first time he crashed his bike when he was seven. He can almost see the outlines where the scars would be on his flesh leg, and he feels loss.

They were all gone, and he fears that if he spends enough time in space, his memory will disappear too.

"Are you okay?" Hunk asks in concern. Lance doesn't answer.

"Can everyone give us a moment?" Shiro asks kindly. The three look hesitant but nod and leave, letting the door fall shut behind them.

"What's going through your mind?" Shiros asks softly.

Lance's opens his mouth, a lie on his tongue, but he pauses, looking into Shiro's eyes. His jaws shut.  _This is Shiro,_  he reminds himself,  _he understands._

"It's flawless," Lance says in a hoarse whisper, finally letting his hand roam over the smooth metal.

Shiro's brow creases, but he looks like he understands and it's a relief. "Just because the blemishes and imperfections are gone doesn't mean that they never existed in the first place, Lance."

"I know, but...I don't know when I'll get to go home and I feel like if I don't have them, then..." Lance's throat becomes clogged with tears.

Shiros firmly grips the hand that has started to clench itself around his leg, "You  _will_  go home, Lance. All of us will, one day. But this leg doesn't have to be  _anything_  more than just the thing you use to stand on. Your memories are always going to be yours, this leg will  _never_  change that."

Lance nods weakly but doesn't feel convinced.

Shiros sees this and continues, "I know what you're going through, Lance, but it won't be this way forever. Tomorrow you'll take your first steps on this leg and the rest will only get easier."

Lance meets Shiro's eyes, lip quivering, "Promise?"

Shiro pulls him in for a hug, "I promise."

~

Pidge isn't present when Lance takes his first steps, but he doesn't expect her to be, he understands how hard she's worked for him and hopes she's resting well.

Shiro's hand is steady on his arm as he puts his feet flat on the ground, taking a deep, nervouse breath."You ready buddy?" Hunk asks from his right.

Lance stares down at his feet, brown and silver, and nods. 

"Alright, take it slowly," Shiro says, gently supporting his arm as he starts to lean up.

Coran is watching him carefully as he stands, watching for any problems or signs of pain.

Lance leans heavily on Shiro as he straightens, bracing his arm against his chest. He's shaky, but he's standing. Slowly, he comes more into himself and supports his weight completely on his own legs. He rotates his hips and makes a face, "Feels weird."

Shiro chuckles, "It takes some getting used to."

"Slowly take a step towards me," Coran says, his expression lighter as he sees Lance able to stand on his own without so much as a flinch.

This time, Lance holds tightly both Shiro and Hunk as he lifts his flesh foot, letting all of his weight rest on his prosthetic.

His foot falls without incident and he bends the prosthetic as effortlessly as his real leg, dropping it down in front of the other. A grin splits his face as his friends cheer.

"You've done it, my boy!" Coran cries with a happy smile.

He hears a sniffle to his left and notices that Hunk is crying, but not a sad cry. Even Shiro has a tear in his eye as he looks down at Lance with pride.

Hopelessness has blossomed into the ability to  _change_ and  _overcome._

"Where's Pidge?" Lance asks.

"In her room, I think, but maybe you should-" Hunk is cut off abruptly when Lance pulls away from him, taking a few small but steady steps away.

Shiro follows with him with a look of fond exasperation and catches him when he stumbles in the doorway. "Be careful."

Hunk and Coran follow, Hunk nervously but Coran ecstatically, ready to brace his back if he falls forward.

"It really is amazing you're able to walk so soon," Hunk says in wonder.

"The healing pod sped up his recovery enough that his muscles haven't atrophied with his time in bed," Shiro says.

"I love alien technology," Hunk says with an earnest, happy sigh. Lance can't help but agree.

Lance tells the others he wants to talk to Pidge alone, thinking back to how Pidge had been acting around him as of late and unable to help thinking that it is partially his fault, and they agree albeit hesitantly.

So he is left by himself in front of her door. He knocks and, without any other warning, the door slides open to reveal a bleary-eyed Pidge. Lance frowns, "I thought you were resting?"

Pidge's eyes widen, "Uh-" she pauses, her eyes roving around as if looking for an escape, "-should you be up right now?"

"Yes," Lance replies slowly, "can we talk?"

Lance can see Pidge swallow, "No, that's probably not-"

"Please?" Lance says, "I probably shouldn't be standing on this leg."

Her eyes flash down to said leg in an instant, grimacing at its wobbliness. She doesn't look happy about it, but she waves him in.

He hisses through his teeth as he gently sits on her short bed. She takes a seat at her desk, her eyes cast to her hands clutched between her knees, a look Lance has gotten used to seeing on her face.

"So," Lance starts, "what've you been doing?"

Pidge chews her lips for a second, pondering. She shakes her head, "Why are you here?"

Right to the chase, then.

Lance frowns, his left hand moving to absently scratch at the hard surface of his leg. Pidge's eyes follow the motion. "You haven't--I mean...are you okay?"

Pidge's head lifts, surprise clear in her wide eyes. She doesn't say anything, and Lance takes that as a sign that he should continue.

"It's just--I know I haven't exactly been... _present..._  but I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome or-"Lance cuts his rambling off abruptly, looking at Pidge from underneath his eyelashes.

Pidge just looks more confused, 'What?"

Lance doesn't understand and tilts his head to the side, hoping she continues without verbal prompting.

Pidge's lips twist uncertainly and she casts her eyes to the side, "You didn't do anything."

"Then why?" Lance asks. He feels like he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, like an inkling.

Pidge's fists clench in her lap and then she says, in a voice so quiet, "It's my fault."

"What?" Lance looks at her with wide, confused eyes. "Pidge it wasn't-"

"It  _was,_ " Pidge hisses. Her eyes are glassy as she says, "It was, Lance. It could've been prevented and...and it's all my fault."

"Pidge... no one could've..." Lance trails off as his throat clogs itself, he tries to control himself and his thoughts. "...it wasn't any of our faults; we couldn't have predicted it."  _But I wish we could've. I know we all do._

Pidge shakes her head jerkily, her head hanging so her bangs fall in front of her eyes. Lance can see tears dripping down her face. "I saw the soldier. I  _saw_ him but there was too much going on and I didn't see what was in his hand and-" she's cut off by a sob. She moves her hand over her mouth and looks up at lance, grief-stricken, "- _I'm so sorry."_

Lance moves before he thinks about it, carefully and slowly dropping down to one knee before pulling Pidge in for a hug, "It isn't your fault."

Pidge sobs, loud and ugly as she clutches at him like he might disappear. Lance feels her tears dripping down his neck and, before he knows it, his hands are shaking as they wrap around her back and his eyes are leaking the embodiment of his own sadness down his cheeks.

Lance shushes her shakily, "It's okay, it's okay Pidge,  _mi hermana."_

"It's not," Pidge sobs, "It isn't okay and I'm _sorry."_

Lance starts to gently rock her, "It's not your fault, Pidgey, I don't blame you."

"You should," Pidge insists.

"No," Lance says gently, sniffling. "I should blame the Galra who did this to me, not you. You didn't do anything but give me the ability to stand on my own again. You didn't do anything short of amazing."

Pidge shakes her head, "I had to. I couldn't deal with...I  _did_  this to you." Her words are punctuated by another wracking sob.

Lance leans back and uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe underneath her eyes. Hse gives her a small smile, "I love you, Pidge. You wouldn't do this to me."

Her face is crumpled as she nods shakily, not fully understanding but accepting. Lance pulls her back into his arms and he holds her for a long time.

He realizes that he is not the only one who needs to heal.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd write more of this au but I decided not to

His hand twists in his sheets, his knuckles white in the darkness as the fabric squeaks under the pressure. His toes are clenched, digging into the mattress, and his head is thrown back, gasping as if he can't get enough air in his lungs.

_It was dark around him as he spun, panting. There was blood dripping down his forehead, but he paid it no mind. His bayard was clenched in his fist as he shot through a galra soldier who had started towards him._

_There was a hall to the right of him, one he felt was important, but he couldn't see into it; it was completely coated in darkness._

_He was startled by another soldier that had a blaster aimed at his shoulder. He dodged but fell short with a hiss, a smoking graze left on his arm. He fired two quick shots and turned--_

_"Lance!"_

_There was something flying through the air, and Lance could do nothing as it fell, red and flashing._

_As an afterthought, he threw himself to the ground, covering his head. Not a second later, there was a deafening boom and a searing pain._

_He-_

His back arches as he wakes, his breath catching in his chest. The only sounds around him are the sounds of his own choking and the rustling of his sheets.

He can barely see the glowing stars stuck on the ceiling of his room through his blurry eyes, but they calm him. His arms go limp, letting his back thump against the softness of his mattress as he tries to slow his breathing.

"Shit," he mutters, throwing an arm over his eyes. His other hand runs down his side slowly and he flinches when his fingertips come into contact with the warmed metal of his leg. He quickly pulls his hand away and sits up tensely.

His eyes flash down to his left leg, covered by his blue sheets, and he feels his mind running wild again, feels his breathing picking up.

_Stop it, it's okay, I'm okay._

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and doesn't let his eyes stray downward as he stands shakily, still unbalanced from the weight added to his left side. He doesn't bother putting anything on as he exits his room, wobbling through the hallways in his black boxers.

He ignores the clanks in his leg as he walks down the hallway, not even reading the nameplates on the doors he passes as he goes; he knows which one he's looking for.

He stops in front of the door and, without a sound, his presses his hand against the scanner at its side. There's still a flare of anxiety that it'll flash red, that it'll disallow him from his sanctuary despite the many times he's done this.

He's shifted his weight from one foot to another by the time the light at the corner of the scanner flashes green and the door clicks. The door slides open almost silently and Lance steps in, pressing the button at his side that would close and lock it once more.

Groaning is the first sound he hears when the door closes, and he isn't surprised. He walks to the edge of the bed and sees in the light glow of their mechanical limbs a silver hand fisting the pillowcase near Shiro's head. There's already a tear in it, stuffing getting stuck in the crevices of Shiro's hand.

Shiro's face is stained with tears, and where there used to be panic or worry at such a sight, there is quiet acceptance and heartfelt sympathy.

Lance leans over the bed and grasps Shiro's metal hand in one of his own, placing his other on his back, gently shaking. "Shiro, Shiro wake up."

Shiro doesn't stir, but the crease on his brow gets deeper. He gives the man a sturdier shake, nearly jostling the entire bed with the roughness of the movement. _"Shiro."_

Shiro's body jerks awake and Lance is forced to take a few steps back as Shiro sits up at lightning speed, his back straight as a pole. Shiro's dark eyes search the room in quick flashes and when he notices Lance, he sighs and his shoulders slump a bit. "Lance."

Lance doesn't try to smile as he says, "Hey."

Shiro looks at him for a moment, his white fringe sticking to the sweat dampening his forehead. He scoots over without a word and presses a hand to his chest, steadying himself.

Lance rubs his arm before shuffling over to the bed and climbing in, a ritual by now. They don't speak as they lie down, their eyes towards the ceiling and the sounds of their breathing intermingling.

It's warm with the two of them-- warm and loud and it feels like _relief._

~

Lance wakes slowly. He isn't rushed when he opens his eyes, doesn't feel the need to get up immediately. He's calm and his calm days are becoming less and less so he values it.

He feels the warm brush of skin against his arm and looks to the side, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips up. Shiro's face is lax, peaceful, but his hair has flopped into his face, tickling his nose and making it twitch.

Lance watches for a while, but Shiro doesn't stir no matter how many times his nose twitches at the intrusive, fly-away hairs.

_He must be so tired_ , Lance thinks. His smile disappears like a wisp of smoke, turning into a gentle frown. He reaches out and displaces the white hair, not wanting it to disturb Shiro's sleep and thinking that the man could do with the extra rest.

Sometimes he wonders what he did for all of the years he slept in solitude. He shivers at the thought of having to go through something like this alone. He can't imagine staring up at the ceiling all night, nightmares coming alive when his eyes slip closed with no reprieve. Lance can go to Shiro and Shiro to Lance  _now_ , but what about before?

Lance feels guilty, to a degree. It shouldn't have taken his own tragedy for him to gain such a simple understanding about his leader-- his  _friend._

Lance doesn't know how long he stares, but time goes by quickly and soon Shiro's bloodshot eyes are squinting up at him. Lance can't help but smile; Shiro is like a cranky toddler in the morning and it is the single most  _adorable_ thing Lance has ever come to learn about him.

"Good morning," Lance greets with a small smile.

Shiro just continues squinting at him, then he scrunches his nose as if in distaste. He frowns in a way that bloats his cheeks and Lance wants nothing more than to squish them... so he does. Happily.

Shiro looks a mixture of irritated and confused as Lance grasps his puffed cheeks in between his palms and  _squeezes,_ forcing Shiro into making a sleepy ducky face. Shiro's eyes are glaring when Lance starts snickering, but he still looks like a tired hamster so it has no effect.

"Lance." Shiro's words are muffled and Lance's snickers become even louder because _oh my god he sounds so pouty!_

"Sorry, sorry," Lance apologizes through his giggles, giving the man a break and removing his hands.

Shiro just huffs and moves onto his back and reaches his arms up above his head, stretching. His body goes taut for a second and his eyes squeeze shut before he's relaxing again with a small sigh. 

"Good sleep?" Lance guesses.

Shiro's eyes flicker to Lance and he gives Lance a crooked smile, "Yeah."

Lance can sympathize, he doesn't know why they even try to sleep apart anymore.

Lance moves to get out of the bed but a twinge in his thigh has him hissing. He moves the blanket away from his lap and looks down at where the prosthetic meets his skin. He rubs gently at its redness and it's warm to the touch.

Shiro sits up and looks with a frown, "You shouldn't be walking on it so much."

Lance lets Shiro get close and watches as the man gently presses the pads of his thumb into the tender flesh. "Your body has to get used to the added weight, you have to rest."

Something pangs in Lance's chest when he looks at the leg for an extended period of time. "Can't we just throw me into a healing pod for a few hours and call it a day?"

"Sorry, but the healing pods can't make you stronger, Lance," Shiro says, pulling his hands away and leaning back on his palms.

Lance eyes Shiro's bicep and gives Shiro a meaningful look, "You sure, Adonis?"

Shiro rolls his eyes and gives Lance a small push, "Get out."

"Fine, fine, I can see when I'm not wanted," Lance says with a dramatic hand to his chest. He stands and twirls with a flourish. "You bed me and then you leave me. You are a cruel man, Takashi Shirogane, a cruel, heartless man."

Lance grins, winking and sticking his tongue out when Shiro gives him an unimpressed look. "Don't worry babe, I'll be your booty call any time!"

Lance has to duck to avoid the torn pillow thrown at his head.

~

Lance has been banned from training for a while, and he hates it. He hates watching everyone work while he's forced to sit out, hates the jittery feeling he gets when he sees Keith practicing with his bayard. He hates the looks they cast him during group practice.

He wishes he could have enough self-control to keep himself from coming to every practice, but he can't, he has an innate need to feel like he's a part of something; like he still has a use despite all of his broken pieces.

Allura still hasn't really said anything to him, but sometimes he hears her talking to Coran late at night. Once their conversation was about searching for a new paladin and he's sure it wasn't the first nor the last time the topic has come up. His heart squeezes when the thinks about it, but he always moves on. If he loses Blue, he'll take it in stride.

He'll smile at the new paladin and introduce them to his beautiful girl, his faithful companion. He wonders if the new paladin will call Keith out on his terrible haircut or if they'll be the one trying Hunk's food-- if they'll be the one Shiro goes to when he has a nightmare.

_In stride, Lance, in stride._

"Is your leg bothering you?"

Lance looks up and Hunk is hovering over him, hesitant and concerned. 

Lance smiles, shaking his head, "Nah, it's good."

Hunk looks relieved, "That's good, do you want to try these cookies I made?"

"Are they  _cookie_  cookies or are they..." Lance makes a face,  _"...cookies?"_

Hunk laughs, "You'll have to tell me." Lance shivers at the thought of a warm, chewy chocolate chip cookie being turned into a purple monstrosity, but he still follows Hunk.

The cookies don't exactly look appetizing, but they aren't purple and Lance sees that as a win. They're actually remarkably close to Earth's own brown-colored delights, but they're much more yellow and the chocolate chips--which he quickly surmises are not chocolate at all-- are a deep blue color.

They don't look poisonous so Lance wastes no time fitting a whole one in his mouth-- much to Hunk's horror-- and chews thoughtfully. The texture is soft, nearly reminiscent of cookies but a little spongey, and the taste...is surprising.

Lance looks at Hunk, his cheeks stuffed with space cookie, "Hunk! This is so good!"

Hunk's eyes light up. "Do they actually taste like cookies!?"

"Uh...no," Lance says flatly. When Hunk's face drops, he wraps an arm around his shoulders and grabs another cookie.  _"But,_  they kind of taste like vanilla ice cream. They're seriously good, dude."

Hunk breaks off a piece of a cookie and puts it in his mouth. After a second he smiles, nodding with an ecstatic look."You're right!"Hunk moves and grabs his notepad off of the counter to the side and picks it up, mumbling, "I might actually be able to use the recipe to make  _actual_ ice cream..." He looks up at Lance for a second. "Thanks, Lance."

"'Course," Lance says. He grabs another cookie, "I'm just gonna take this and leave you to do your culinary genius."

Hunk only hums and Lance takes that as his cue to go.

He takes a bite out of his cookie and thinks he doesn't want anyone else to take his place in the kitchen with Hunk. Not now, not ever.

~

Lance's favorite thing to do when he can't sleep is sit in one of the glass-covered pockets that are hidden in crevices dug into the sides of the ship and stare at the stars as they pass them at a snail's pace.

Tonight he sits here cross-legged in only a pair of pajama pants, the reds and whites of the stars they pass twinkling in his eyes as if they're waving off their unhurried departure.

He doesn't know how long he's been sitting here, but he thinks it's been a while because his toes are frozen and his arms are stiff as they haven't moved since he sat down.

There's a soft sound of padding feet behind him and he looks, finding Shiro standing behind him in only sweats, water dripping down his bare, scar-ravished torso. His right arm is lifted, rubbing a towel on his damp hair.

Neither of them say anything as Shiro comes to stand next to him, looking out into the vast expanse of space. The alive sound of breathing is the only one Lance can hear and, for once, the excess sound doesn't bother him in his haven.

"It's late," Shiro speaks finally, his voice soft and unobtrusive. Lance nods a bit. Not an answer to the unspoken question, he realizes, but he doesn't move to remedy his nonanswer.

After a second, Shiro drops his towel by his feet and sits by Lance with his knees up and his arms crossed over top. Lance thinks he can see a bit of gold in his eyes when the stars reflect in them.

He knows they don't need words to understand each other anymore, but he still feels a need to fill the silence. "Did you just get out of the shower?"  _That was stupid, of course he did._

Shiro gives him a side glance and a small, amused smile, "Yes," he says, "I wanted to train before bed."

"This late?" Lance asks, mimicking his previous question. Their eyes meet and they both know Lance isn't really looking for an answer. Lance's hand strays down to pull at his left pant leg and Shiro quietly presses an arm against his and Lance stops, letting his hand rest near Shiro's instead.

"Allura had something to talk to me about; it took longer than expected," Shiro says. Lance gives him a side glance.

He looks down at his hands and bites his lips. Hesitantly, he says, "...It's about finding a new blue paladin, isn't it? Because I haven't been able to work with the team."

Lance can't bring himself to look at Shiro, but he can feel the man's gaze on the side of his face. "Lance...what are you talking about?"

Lance's hand clenches into a fist and he still doesn't look up as he says, "I know that Allura is thinking about it. I...I can't really blame her, can I?" 

"Lance," There is a hand on his shoulder and out of the corner of his eye he sees Shiro leaning into his space. "we aren't going to replace you."

Lance's lips are sealed tightly as, to his horror, tears start to leak from his eyes. "Don't sugarcoat it, Shiro, please."

"Lance...Lance look at me," Shiro forces Lance to look at him with a firm tap on the cheek. His tears come faster when he meets Shiro's painfully kind eyes, "no one is replacing you."

Lance sniffles, "Why?"

"What do you mean _'why?'_   We wouldn't replace you because you can't do everything while you're still  _recovering._  That would be ridiculous," Shiro says in a soft, convincing tone.

"Then why was Allura saying she'd look for someone to Coran? I heard it," Lance says. He wipes his eyes roughly on the back of his arm, uncaring that his skin would become sticky with tears.

"She... may have been considering it when you looked like you weren't going to recover," Shiro says slowly as if cautious, "but you  _are_  recovering."

"So she isn't looking anymore?" Lance hates how pathetic he sounds.

"No, she isn't. She wanted to ask me about integrating you back into your training regime," Shiro tells him with a gradual smile.

_Allura wants him to train with them again? She doesn't want to replace him?_

Lance laughs mirthlessly, "Great, now I sound like an asshole."

Shiro rests a hand on his arm, "You aren't being an asshole, Lance," he makes sure to hold onto Lance's gaze as he continues, "you just went through something traumatic and you're going through new emotions that you need time to learn how to handle. She understands. We all do and we won't ever hold it against you."

"But I'm a paladin of Voltron, what good am I if I can't handle my emotions?" Lance asks, his shoulders curling in.

"You deserve to lash out, Lance. You deserve to be upset and sad and angry, you deserve to feel what you feel and being a paladin of Voltron doesn't change that." Lance's brow furrows as he looks at Shiro helplessly.

"Did you ever go through this?" he asks.

He begins to regret his question when Shiro's eyes seem to darken and he's about to take it back when Shiro replies, "Yes. I would have hated for any of you to see me like that."

"...Was it that bad?" Lance prods gently.

Shiro's lips purse and he nods, "It wasn't pretty." Shiro heaves a hefty sigh and closes his eyes. "It wasn't pretty, but it was and is normal and I can't fault myself for it any more than you can."

Lance nods. "So I'm not being replaced?"

"No," Shiro responds patiently, letting his eyes open once more and smiling, "we're all waiting for you to get well again."

Lance gives a hard sniff. "Thank you, Shiro."

Shiro wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a one-armed hug, resting his cheek on the crown his head. "I should be the one thanking you."

"For what?"

Shiro holds him a little tighter as he says, "Everything."

And as Lance looks at the stars that zoom past the ship he thinks that this is what healing feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Visit me on Tumblr:** one-trigger-lullaby.tumblr.com
> 
> I lied. It doesn't get worse, it gets fluffier. excuse me.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Check me out on tumblr:** one-trigger-lullaby.tumblr.com


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